


Counting Scars

by MilitaryPenguin



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Scars, Secrets, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9782336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilitaryPenguin/pseuds/MilitaryPenguin
Summary: Deianeira has taken a liking to examining her husband's scars.





	

Deianeira had taken a liking to examining her husband's scars when he pulled off his tattered yellow tunic just before they went to bed. Hercules hadn't been on as many adventures, so he hadn't gained any new ones recently, but she loved looking at and touching them as though they were. She'd count the scars like she'd count freckles, sliding her soft fingers against his skin to trace the shape of the scar and recalling, one by one, the tales of how he got them with a gusto. This was something that should have given Hercules a quietly swelling sense of pride, seeing his wife relish in the histories of his past battles that had been inscribed on his flesh. He supposed it did to an extent, but he always had to stop her at a certain point--with a kiss, or an "I think that's the last of them." It wasn't that he wasn't charmed by the intimacy of Deianeira's fingers caressing his skin while she sensually relayed him the tales of how he got those scars, or that he didn't enjoy it.

In fact, he did enjoy it, very much. And his reason for enjoyment was, incidentally, the same one that he'd always have to stop Deianeira for.

He was terribly, terribly ticklish.

And not only was he ticklish, he enjoyed being tickled, in a way that wasn't the usual "fun" kind of enjoyment. It was a huge point of embarrassment for him, not only because tickling had always been such a casual, friendly act of affection that associating it with sexual feelings made it feel disgustingly uncouth, but being tickled had always rendered him helpless. For whatever reason, the great physical strength gifted to him could easily be undone by a pair of hands digging their fingers into his ribs. What on Earth would anyone think if they knew that he, a supposedly unbeatable demigod, had a weakness against tickling, of all things? Hercules tried to justify the insecurity in his head as a  _Then I wouldn't be able to protect anyone_ , which wasn't untrue, but he knew, deep down, that it was also a matter of retaining the respect of the people around him. Hercules, the demigod who could not only be defeated by the mere stroke of a finger against his belly, but also got _turned on_ by it. He really didn't like to entertain thoughts that involved putting himself before others, and it was all the more reason for him to keep his distance from tickling as much as possible.

His guilt attached to the subject swelled when he thought of his wife. Hercules didn't keep any secrets from Deianeira. This wasn't just out of showmanship of the trust and faith he had in his wife--he simply didn't feel the need to. It was one of the things he valued most about their relationship; that he could comfortably let his guard down, put away his mantle as hero, let his hair down, essentially. He couldn't read his wife's mind, but he thought it reasonable to assume the feeling was mutual. Just as he didn't care if his posture looked sloppy, or that he wouldn't hold back on cranky complaints of a bad night's rest or the dog being stubborn, Deianeira certainly didn't appear to care that she snored loudly when she slept, or that she'd sometimes talk with her mouth full of the dinner she'd prepared. If they had a problem with one another's habits and vices, they'd let each other know about it, and wouldn't hold back on the bluntness of their words.

But Hercules couldn't let his wife know about how ticklish he was, much less that he liked it. He knew it was such a ridiculous secret to keep, he knew his wife would understand. So why, _why_ did his chest always tighten up at the thought of her finding out?

"Alright, off with that shirt," said Deianeira, before Hercules could even sit on their bed.

"Again?" He laughed, hoping to mask his nervousness. "You're only going to see more of the same."

"Ah-ah, you can't hide this," she poked Hercules in the chest where he sported three new claw marks, "From me."

Should have seen that coming; they were displayed in plain sight after all. Hercules shuffled through his thoughts for excuses. "Well, it's, uh…it's still fresh, you know. It throbs a little when you touch it. I think…maybe…"

Deianeira slowly walked towards him until nothing but her smirking face took up his vision. A pair of hands came to his chest and pushed him backwards, landing on the cushioned surface of their bed. His wife sat on his knees and gently tugged at the bottom of his shirt before gradually pulling it up.

"I can never stop you, huh?" Hercules said with a resigned smile.

"Nope, you may be the mighty Hercules, but here you're up against the mighty Deianeira." She stopped pulling his shirt up to stare at his fully-exposed midriff. "Mm, I'm never going to get tired of looking at this."

Hercules's body jerked and his breath hitched when a pair of warm, wet lips pressed themselves against his sensitive stomach. Deianeira looked quizzically up at him, and Hercules tried turning his expression of ticklish surprise into that of ecstasy, a feeling that wasn't entirely false to begin with. It seemed to work; Deianeira pulled away from her kiss and tugged the rest of his shirt off over his head. She threw the article of clothing aside and laid down on top of her husband.

"Now, let's see what we have here…"

She started as she always did, in the middle of his right deltoid, where she traced the slanted scar, one of the few that maintained its dark crimson complexion long after it had already been healed up. "This, you got in your battle with the great lion of Nemea. Not gonna lie, wish I'd been there to see it."

Hercules laughed. "You wanted to see me slaughter a lion?"

"Of course I do." Deianeira shot him a teasing glare. "What, I'm not allowed to have a lust for blood too?"

"Hey, hey, I don't have any sort of lust for blood, you know that. Those people were in danger, they needed--"

"Alright, alright," Deianeira pursed his lips with two fingers, "You're the good guy, you don't want to spill any blood unless you have to. Your wife, the mighty Deianeira, on the other hand…"

Hercules pondered this silence his wife had given him for a moment and nodded his head in understanding. "Well, you are pretty eager about me getting new scars."

She smiled. "I sure am."

Two fingers drifted away from his lips, walking across his flesh to the next scar, making Hercules lightly shiver at the touch. A single finger circled around the mark of the beast--located horizontally on his upper left pec--with a feather-light touch that made his nerves even more agitated.

Deianeira cocked her head to the side and brought her finger to trace the scar, far paler and colorless than the one given to him by the lion, moving her finger back and forth against it. "The Lernean hydra gave this one to you, didn't it?"

"Y-yes…" Hercules responded, trying to maintain his composure.

"You're sure the quiet one tonight, aren't you?"

"It's been a long day."

"Mm."

Deianeira's hand slid over to the front of his chest where he bore his three new jagged scars. Hercules relaxed for the moment that Deianeira's palm rested on his chest, sparing him from her teasing fingers, but it was only that--a moment--before she'd resume her routine and Hercules's body tensed up once again.

"So these are the newcomers from your last endeavor," Deianeira commented with a smile, tracing each scar one by one, "What's the story behind them?"

"Got them from the minotaur," he said, sucking in his breath as Deianeira's fingertips glided across the three claw marks. "I'll…tell you about it some other time with the kids. It's been a long day, like I said."

Deianeira nodded, though she looked more taken in by the scars than her husband's words. "I like the look of them a lot. They've got such a color to them that's so bold, and daring…kind of like the guy wearing them."

Hercules rolled his eyes. "Oh, please."

Deianeira laughed and mockingly rolled her eyes back at him. " _Still_ can't take any compliments, not even in bed. I swear, you're impossible."

" _I'm_ impossible?" Hercules scoffed, "I'm supposed to be the strongest man around and I can't even stop my wife from taking my shirt off!"

Deianeira shrugged with amusement. "What can I say? The mighty Deianeira always prevails. Now, let's take a look back on your battle with Tiphys…"

Deianeira's finger slid down to his ribcage and Hercules could feel his guts twisting themselves in knots. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out before his body gave way to the sensation crawling all over him, or worse--if he laughed. Arousal began to bubble up in his groin, something he hoped would quickly subside.

"You're trembling," Deianeira remarked with a hint of concern in her voice, "Why?"

"I-I'm not…"

Deianeira drew a circle continuously around his scar, and Hercules gasped, trying to hold back his reaction.

"I-I mean….well, you…you know how I am, I'm always a little shy when it comes to this."

"Shy, huh?" Deianeira quirked an eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

"Y-you…" Hercules chuckled nervously, struggling to find the words that would cease Deianeira's touches. He opted to try leaning up and kiss her instead, but Deianeira was quick to push him back down.

"Come on," she said, "This always happens. I give your scars a look-over, and just before I can get to what happened in Saenia it's always a kiss or something about how we've gone over it already. You want to tell me what's going on?"

Heat was rising rapidly to Hercules's cheeks and he suddenly wished he was back fighting one of the ones who scarred him instead. Maybe then he could avoid getting those battle scars that landed him in this situation.

"Well, if you won't tell me…" said Deianeira, pausing for dramatic effect, "…then the mighty Deianeira has ways of making timid little demigods talk."

It was all Hercules could do to not let his eyes widen at the threat, holding up his hands in surrender. "H-hey, i-it's nothing it's…"

Deianeira jabbed her fingers deep into Hercules's ribs and Hercules gasped, grabbing at the blankets beneath him. A predatory grin spread across Deianeira's face and he swallowed fearfully. He wasn't sure what he could do at this point that wouldn't let his secret get out--protesting would only lead Deianeira quicker to the conclusion of his secret, and even if managed to keep himself from laughing, the uncontrollable movements of his body would be more than enough to give him away.

He tried reaching out to gently, tenderly rest his hands on Deianeira's, but in doing so he foolishly exposed his armpits, vulnerable to attack. Deianeira's fingers scurried up his ribcage and into his armpits and that was what completely shattered his barely-kept together facade. He laughed and thrashed about as Deianeira mercilessly wriggled her fingers in his pits. His already-hot face was turning red from tickle-induced laughter and his toes curled intensely in his still-booted feet. To make matters worse, he could feel his dick hardening against the fabric of his underwear.

Deianeira's fingers withdrew from their assault underneath his arms and let Hercules breathe.

"So, you're ticklish," said Deianeira, "I thought as much, what with you squirming around every time I've touched your scars. C'mon, you didn't have to hide this from me."

"I'd say I did," Hercules grumbled, wrapping his arms firmly around his body and making sure his hands shielded his armpits too. "You never hold back when you do it to our kids, how was I supposed to expect any differently?"

"Point taken. And, since you're so well-protected up there…" Deianeira squatted down to tug off his boots and wrapped her hands tightly around his feet. "…I think I'll have to continue living up to my reputation down here."

"N-n-no, no, Deianeirahahaha!"

Ten spidery fingers scampered about all over his bare soles. He wanted to pull his legs away or at least kick his feet, but each ticklish touch kept his great strength in a vise; he could do nothing but squirm uselessly and laugh helplessly. Deianeira was now using her nails to lightly graze at his feet and the tips of his toes--an act that, while having seemingly less power behind it than the full power of her fingers, proved to be even more effective in wrangling laughter out of his lungs.

"What's the matter, Hercules?" Deianeira asked in a half-taunting half-curious tone, while continuing her ticklish attack on his feet, "I thought you were supposed to be the strongest guy around here. You're not even gonna fight back?"

The words pierced Hercules through his laughter-induced torment into his heart. His worst fears had taken root, and he had no way of disproving it. The most he could do was beg for mercy and hope Deianeira would stop before she could fully uncover his secret.

"Deianeira…please…" Hercules choked between his laughter, "I-it's late, l-let's go to bedahaha!"

Deianeira sighed and released his feet. Hercules, relieved from the ticklish chains holding him in place, stretched out and sat up, clutching his side as he caught his breath. Deianeira stood up, hands on her hips, shaking her head at him with bemusement.

"I really feel like there's something you're not telling me."

She sat down by her husband's side and lay a hand on his thigh. Hercules flinched at the touch, expecting that she may tickle him again. Deianeira gave it a gentle squeeze, intended for reassurance, but it sent a ticklish jolt up through his body instead, and he fell back on the bed, laughing as uncontrollably as he did when she deliberately tickled him.

"Wow, you've really got it bad, don't you?" The teasing in her voice had gone and in its place was genuine worry. She pulled her hand away. "Anyway, I feel like there's something you're not telling me…and it's something you really _want_ to tell me." Deianeira laid down beside him, running her fingers through his hair. "But hey, if you don't feel like talking about it now, I'll understand. It's been a long day for you, and I'm sure you're ready for some sleep."

Hercules could kiss Deianeira right now. She managed to turn this situation to its best course without any prompting from him. She could read him like an open book.

Which is why he knew now was as good a time as any to tell her.

"No...no," he said, gently grabbing her other hand, "I've avoided this for far too long. It's…time I let you know a little something about myself. It's…kind of embarrassing, which is why I haven't said anything about it."

Deianeira looked into his eyes with a serious stare. "The great Deianeira knows no judgment." She smiled at her attempt to lighten the mood. "Tell me, Hercules, what's so embarrassing that you look like you're in more pain trying to admit it than you've ever been in your toughest battles?"

Hercules swallowed, shifting his body around as he looked for the least humiliating words to describe it. None came. He'd have to be as he'd always been with his wife--completely, brutally honest.

"The truth is…well, you've seen how….ticklish I am." He flinched a bit at having to say the T-word. "I'm…actually so ticklish…it…it robs me of my strength. I become powerless as long as I'm tickled. I don't know what I'd do if my enemies found out…or what people would think of me. That scares me the most, I think."

He could tell the truth, but he couldn't look Deianeira in the eye; his face was too red to see what possible surprise she held in her eyes.

"And…that's not all." He continued his confession, heart beating rapidly against his chest. "I…I like it. Being tickled. But not because it makes me laugh. I like…I don't know how to put this. I like the sensation it gives, and how helpless it makes me. It…" Hercules brought a hand to his face, as though it would conceal him from any further embarrassment. "…it turns me on," he mumbled.

"Oh, Hercules," sighed Deianeira sympathetically, "If I only knew, I'd make our nights all these years more exciting."

"Hey! You've made them plenty exciting."

"You know what I mean. Exciting for you and…" She trailed the hand stroking his hair down to his stomach. "…exciting for me. You ready?"

Hercules took in a deep breath and nodded. No sooner did he nod than he felt his wife's fingers spidering wildly all over his belly, causing him to throw back his head in laughter and his whole body to squirm uncontrollably. Deianeira grinned wickedly, bringing her other hand to join in on doubling down on the tickling. Hercules's nerves were on fire, tears began leaking from his eyes. The tickling held down his arms from trying to make any attempt at wriggling away from or pushing Deianeira's hands away--he was completely at her mercy, and he loved it.

"Gods, you're _cute_ like this, you know that?" Deianeira said teasingly, moving a hand down to scuttle up and down his ribs. "Only I could be so lucky as to have the mighty Hercules like this: giggling, blushing, ticklish. _Ticklish._ " She dug her fingers deeper into his ribs and abdomen. "Oh yeah, don't think I haven't noticed how you react to that word. Almost like it makes you even more ticklish. Tickle, tickle, tickle…"

"Hahahahelp!" cried Hercules, "My wife is a sahahaha-- _sadist!_ "

Deianeira smirked proudly. "You got that right, my ticklish hero-boy."

That familiar pair of lips pressed down on his stomach once again, this time accompanied by a tongue. Deianeira sucked in a lungful of air and blew a long, wet raspberry into his belly. Hercules was sobbing with laughter now. _A raspberry_ , of all things! He hadn't felt one of those since his mother gave them to him as a child. Deianeira brought her fingers to both of his sides and tickled him as she blew another raspberry into him. He writhed and thrashed about--still not powerfully enough to throw off his wife--half-giggling, _giggling,_ crying, and…

Moaning. He couldn't believe something he'd long perceived as childish as a raspberry would arouse him like this. There was an undeniably sensual factor in having Deianeira's lips brush against his stomach, kissing and blowing it with more lust behind it than what was to be expected of such an action. This, coupled with the tingling jolts the tickling supplied all over his body gave him such a sensation he could hardly bear leaving his dick untouched any longer.

Deianeira, perceptive as ever, quickly noticed the erection tenting his pants.

"The ticklish demigod gets off on being tickled…I still can't believe it myself," she purred, massaging his crotch with one hand and tickling his stomach with the other.

"Ahh…ahahaha! Deianeira…p-please…hahaha…!"

"You're in luck, I'm getting pretty turned on by this myself."

Deianeira's fingers hooked at his pants and underwear and tugged them down to where his boots and shirt lay on the ground. She slipped out of her dress and underwear, discarding it alongside her husband's clothing, and climbed on top of him. The sight of her nude, voluptuous body was as breathtaking to look at as ever--firm, round breasts dangled over and smooth curves hugged at her body's frame. She lowered herself, her nipples lightly tickling at his chest and poised like a hungry wild cat, and she let her opening envelope his dick. He moaned at the tight wetness engulfing him and wanted, badly, to reach up touch Deianeira's breasts, but one of her hands scurried over into his armpit instead. Hercules bucked his hips upward, whimpering and laughing as Deianeira ground her own hips into him.

"You wanted tickling, you're getting tickling," she said in between pants, "Until you make me come, you're stuck in that tickle dungeon."

_What if I come first?_ was what he wanted to ask, but the fingers dancing in his armpit and Deianeira's sharp thrusting prevented him from making any noises that weren't moans and laughter. His mind was turning into a haze of lust and ticklishness; an unbearable combination that he, for whatever reason, couldn't get enough of. In a way, it was freeing--after all the hard labor and adventuring he'd done, he could finally let go and have someone else take up the reigns. Entrusting full control to someone else and only hoping that they'd stop when they'd promised--it was, in many ways, more thrilling than narrowly escaping the hand of death on one of his journeys yet again.

Deianeira threw her head back and let out a loud groan as she pushed and tickled harder and quicker, sweat glistening atop her forehead. Hercules continued squirming beneath her, sweat on his own forehead dripped and mixed with the tears streaming down his face.

"You….you look so good like that…" Deianeira moaned, "All helpless and ticklish…I should do this to you more often…Hercules, the most ticklish man in all of Greece…"

Hercules's heart continued to jump whenever Deianeira spoke _that word_ , and he feared he may collapse from sheer ecstasy overload. Deianeira's hand, now tired of his armpit, trailed back down to torment his ribs. This seemed to give Deianeira the extra shove she needed to pump harder into him. He was ready to come at any moment, but didn't want to tempt the possibilities of his wife on her current sadism-high.

Deianeira gasped with a whimper in her throat and she finally climaxed on top of him. The sexual release splashed over and relieved Hercules of the never-ending throbbing of his dick. As promised, Deianeira's fingers no longer tickled him, and she lay beside him, panting contentedly instead.

"Th-that was…" Hercules was still trying to gather all the breath he released from his lungs amidst his laughing and moaning. "….amazing…so amazing…I had no idea…you…were..."

"--such a sadist, as you put it?" said Deianeira, taking pity on her husband and letting him catching his breath. She chuckled. "Neither did I, frankly. I guess you really awoke the mighty Deianeira in me tonight."

"Please don't tell anyone…especially not the kids…about this…"

"Oh, I'm not _that_ much of a sadist."

"You never know."

A yelp escaped his throat when he felt a finger jab into his side. Deianeira grinned. "Yeah, I guess you never do."

Hercules wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. "There! That'll keep the mighty Deianeira in place."

"Oh no," said Deianeira in a deadpan tone, dramatically bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, "I've finally been thwarted."

Hercules felt relief in his lungs when his laughter wasn't induced by tickling this time.

"Deianeira…thank you," he said, kissing the top of her head, "I feel so…relieved now. Like I've conquered some inner demon, and it was all thanks to you. I finally feel fully…comfortable, with myself."

Deianeira smiled and kissed Hercules before snuggling into his embrace.

"Too bad you won't have any scars to share from your encounter with the tickle monster, mm?"


End file.
